Mazes
by agrajagthetesty
Summary: As Winry wandered the narrow passages that twined between the bookcases, she thought absently of the time when everything, previously so difficult and grating and broken, had fallen suddenly into a smooth but sickeningly hollow normality... Oneshot. AlWin


**Mazes**

Winry was always nervous about going into his study- not because she was worried about what he would do if he found her there, but because she hated interrupting his work. She knocked cautiously on the door, but didn't wait for a response, walking straight in as she always did. He was often too busy or too far from the door to hear her knocking, anyway. The door opened with the tiniest of sounds- as they both understood the importance of keeping metal in good condition, the hinges were oiled frequently- and she stepped inside, wondering again why she intruded if she got so anxious about it every time. He never got angry at her, of course, but she still didn't like to disturb him. She looked around, struck, as she always was, by the sheer size of the rooms. He called them his study, but in reality they were more like a set of minor libraries with a tiny desk and a lamp crammed into one corner. She wondered, as she shut the door behind her, how he could possibly feel comfortable here and not be intimidated by the rows of books and the twisting corridors- but then he had furnished the rooms himself, and all the books were his own. He must have read them all at some point. Still, she couldn't help but feel isolated from this particular aspect of their life, and found it impossible to consider this miniature labyrinth of bookcases a part of her house. She supposed it wasn't. Just as the workshops and tool sheds were her domain, this mammoth of information was his.

As Winry wandered the narrow passages that twined between and bisected the bookcases, in an unhurried search for him- he could be anywhere in the maze, as he had developed a tendency to settle himself wherever he found his information on that particular morning- she thought absently of that time, so long ago now, when everything, previously so difficult and grating and broken, had fallen suddenly into a smooth but sickeningly hollow normality, with the subtlest shifting of circumstances. She remembered how she had collapsed, hands over her face and shaking with emotion, onto the sofa in the living room, ready to close her eyes and sleep for a thousand years so that the whole nightmare would never have existed. Ed was already upstairs in the very room he had occupied during the one terrible year of surgery and then recovery, sleeping like the dead, his now staggeringly real limbs dangling over the edge of the bed in his customary not-so-elegant sprawl. Snoring, too, she was willing to bet. But at that moment she wasn't considering this. She was unable to think of anything, only registering the almost crippling sweeps of emotion washing over her as she sat limp on the sofa, hitched breaths barely escaping from behind her hands, still covering her face completely.

She had stayed there for a long time.

She gradually became aware of a little, incomprehensible noise nudging the edges of her consciousness. As she slowly became herself again, raggedly registering her surroundings, she began to falteringly recognise that it was a voice, quiet and timid. It was cautiously calling her name, she realised as the sound of words came back together in her mind; but it took another long moment before it occurred to her that she ought to respond.

She lowered her hands and turned her head with a great effort, finally managing to look into his dreadfully concerned but beautifully human face.

"Al," she said.

"Are you alright?" he asked worriedly. "You've been here for ages and I've been calling and calling but you wouldn't reply. . ."

Winry stared at him with distraught eyes.

But she could no longer control herself. She hunched suddenly forwards over her knees and cried as though she would break, all her feelings escaping her in a violent outpour, until her body was weak and her throat sore, and her sobs came harsh and ragged and tearless.

They all cried during the time that followed, both from happiness and relief, but also in shock, and, for her alone, out of loss. She had lost the link that had held them all together over the years. Now, it seemed, there was nothing to join and unite them, and she cried with open, raw emotion, dreading and despising the inevitable period of awkwardness, followed by the drifting apart and eventually leading to separation and indifference, that was to come.

Nobody questioned her tears. It was normal to cry after achieving something you had prayed for and dreamed of for so long.

She had never tried to explain her fears, and knew now that she never would. It would only result in more hurt, and remind everyone of something they would rather- not forget- but use as a lesson in order to move on with the rest of their lives.

Winry moved through an open doorway into the next room, scanning around her as she went, her gaze alternately vague and meticulous- vague as it scanned the shelves of books, meticulous as it searched for him. There was no telling where he could be, after all. Her memories had brought back unpleasant feelings, and she had to struggle to shake them off as she explored the mazes. Thankfully, she didn't feel that way any more. She had been completely assured that her fears were groundless.

A smile flickered across her face as she remembered. Sitting on the hillside with Al beside her, alone together after everyone else had dispersed one by one, leaving empty packets and remnants of food, the shells of the afternoon, in their wake. Remaining there in mutual silence, watching the sky turn slowly above them, from late afternoon to evening to dusk, long after the celebration was over and the others gone. His expression looking calm and content at long last. His gaze flickering almost imperceptibly between her face and his own clasped hands. Her shifting to lean her head against his shoulder. The hesitant touch of his fingers as he pushed her hair away from her cheek. The silence of the world all around them as she moved to close the tiny distance between them.

They had had so much time together, Winry mused, but there was nothing that could match that moment.

She grinned in triumph as she rounded the last corner and found him sitting in his tiny wooden chair, actually at his desk for once, head cushioned on his folded arms and resting on the flat tabletop in front of him, fast asleep over all his precious notes and books. His coat was lying discarded on the ground as if it had slipped from around his shoulders. He was facing away from her, and all she could see of him was the round of his back hunched over the desk, and a glimpse of feathery golden-brown hair. She crossed the room towards him, gathering discarded papers from off the floor and shelves as she walked. He stirred, hearing her footsteps approaching even through his sleep, as he always could.

And as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he turned his face up to meet hers, with his forever surprised, delighted smile as a greeting, she understood. This would always be the reason she came to interrupt his work.

_Author's notes: Kyaaaaaaa! I made myself melt. There were so many pairings in the world, agrajag mused, but there was nothing that could match AlWin. So sweet! And so unloved! __And yes, I know it'll never happen, but a girl can dream, can't she?! __I actually worked really hard to make this cute and sufficiently romantic, but still innocent and chaste. I'm pleased with it overall, I think, but it took much longer than normal and I'm still worried about some passages. --;_

_Dedicated to Katya, my wonderful friend, as a thank you for everything she's done for me over the last week. Love!_

_Reviews fill me with a joy that only Kitkat Chunkies can match._


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